


You're A Mindfuck, Mickey Milkovich.

by TheGhostOfYou



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Basically showing you that Mick and Fiona are angels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:44:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGhostOfYou/pseuds/TheGhostOfYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona, and her thoughts on Mickey, and more importantly his relationship with Ian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're A Mindfuck, Mickey Milkovich.

"Ian here?" 

The voice startles Fiona and she shifts her eyes from the counter to look in the direction of the voice.

Mickey Milkovich is standing in the doorway awkwardly, but there's something swimming in those piercing blue eyes. Something she can't seem to read. It's not vengeance at least, not murderous, and so she nods towards the stairs, unable to keep her brows from raising in question. 

"He's upstairs." She offers, and before she can say anything else, Mickey was out of sight, leaving her with three sets of eyes staring widely at her, before the rest of her siblings are barging up those very stairs as well.

They return downstairs in the blink of an eye, and Fiona's surprised by the change in temperament. They even offer to help her set the table, the silence in the room comfortable in a way at has not been a long time.

Ian comes into sight halfway through the meal, with Mickey hot on his heels. Whereas her brother immediately made himself comfortable, animated discussions kicking off between him and Lip, Fiona wasn't watching them. 

Her stare was fixed on Mickey, who sat tense, beside the redhead. He looked uncomfortable with the situation, out of place, and every little while he would lean closer to Ian, and two boys would lock eyes with one and other. Those moments lingered longer than necessary, out in the open, but yet screaming for privacy. 

Fiona blinks, nearly dropping the fork from her hand. She almost doesn't believe it, doesn't believe that Mickey could be gay. That there was something there, between him and Ian. Then the realisation settles. Given the attitude of the household Mickey grew up in, it wasn't hard to imagine that he had become very good at hiding it, at hiding himself from everyone. She feels a pang of sympathy for him.

She gets close to saying something, having thought it over in her head over and over again. But Ian stands up, excusing himself, and of course Mickey follows him, the two of them so close that their shoulders brush continously. She glances at Lip, who shrugs, mouthing _l_ _ater._

_•••_

The house is quiet, winding down as it gets late and everyone retires for bed. The single ray of illumination comes from the kitchen. Fiona walks in to see Lip with his head buried in a textbook, and she moves onwards to brew a fresh pot of coffee, something telling her it was about to be a long night.

She places a cup in front of him. "It's later. Tell me what's going on." 

The eyes in front of Fiona flicker from the coffee, to the wall behind her, before Lip finally puts the book aside. 

He sighs, and without a flinch in his expression, he tells her everything, right from the beginning. The story goes from how Ian and Mickey were only fuck-buddies, to how their bond grew, how their feelings developed despite Mickey's reservations to let that happen. But then Lip's face twists in a way it doesn't normally and he continues, describing the day the couple had met Svetlana for the first time, what kind of morbid acts took place that day. He then describes how everything fell apart, how Mickey kept his distance, how the marriage happened. He tells her why Ian left.

Fiona blinks back tears, and she feels her heart squeeze. She wants to hate Mickey, for what he did, what he did to Ian, but she can't find it in herself. To even imagine the thoughts that go through Mickey's head on a daily basis, makes her stomach lurch. He was just a kid. He was just a kid, damn it. 

"He brought Ian back, y'know?" Lip snorts, idly lifting his cup of coffee. "Didn't think Mickey had it in him, thought he was a pussy. Guess not." 

Nodding her head slowly, Fiona finally wipes at her eyes. It's too much to digest at one point, she's surprised that Lip can sit there with such a straight face. But then she remembers this is Lip. 

"Why don't you go to bed, huh? I'll clean up. Go on." 

He nods, and picks up his books, but she stops him just long enough to place a kiss to his cheek. She knows none of these children, not her siblings, not Mickey, know the love of a parent. 

All Fiona wants is to break piece by piece of herself, give it to each one, to make them whole. 

Finally, she goes upstairs herself, walking past each bedroom with a heavy heart. She doesn't like how Debbie curls too tightly into herself, as if she was afraind. She hates the way Carl's fists are tensed, even in sleep, always ready to strike. Then she glances at Ian, laying on his stomach, a haphazard like he was earlier today. Mickey was different. Nothing about what he slept like was how he normally was. There was nothing aggressive, nothing apprehensive about him now. He looks vulnerable, the walls he surrounds himself, cracked.

She wonders how many more broken souls will be left to haunt this place.

 ••• 

Morning comes and Fiona feels unwelcome in the home she made possible. She's uncomfortable in her own skin as Debbie and Carl give her the same regard as they would to Monica or Frank. Lip refuses to leave Liam with her, piling on lame excuses, when really all he should be saying is; I don't trust you.

It's just her, Mickey and Ian after that. She sighs, asking her little brother for money. Ian of course smiles, his eyes so wide. Too wide, as he hands her a handful of damp crumbled notes. She's sick to her stomach thinking about how they got that way.

Next, it's like she's not even in the room, and Ian asks Mickey to come to work with him, Mickey agrees, and satisfied, Ian is ready to leave for his run. But before he does, Fiona watches as he places his hand on Mickey's shoulder, squeezes, their eyes locking. She doesn't miss the way Mickey's face lights up.

After Ian is gone, it's just two of them, Mickey staring blankly at the coffee in his hand. He doesn't look bothered, he looks like he's in pain. Fiona feels a lump rise in her throat. 

"Hey, everything okay?" She's not even sure if it's in her place to ask, but she does, moving closer to where he's sitting.

Mickey looks up a her with eyebrows so high up on his creased forehead, it's comical. He flexes his jaw and she expects something harsh, a sudden blow. 

He just shrugs. "Wife is having the kid." He doesn't elaborate any further.

Fiona gingerly places a warm hand on his forearm, afraid that Mickey won't be open to the contact. But he doesn't push her away, doesn't flinch, he just continues to sit there with his bowed down. She let's him soak in the silent comfort.

A couple more seconds pass like that, before Fiona moves, drawing herself to the present as she clears the table. Her mind however, is transfixed on him. She can't even imagine what it must bring up for Mickey, how much more real this makes what had happened to him. A reminder to stare at, day after day.  The air moves to her lungs with difficulty, and she drops a plate. It's a loud and awful sound, but she can't bring herself to care. She's stuck.

Mickey is now trying to side step her, concern written into her features with something else, maybe confusion. His voice is low. "Why don't you let me clear this shit up, eh? Jeez, Lip was right, just take it easy. I got it." 

What she doesn't except to do is turn herself around, drawing Mickey into her arms. There's so much she wants to say them, but only one thing comes out, her words thick with tears. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing him back to us...God, thank you." 

He's awkward in this position, she can tell by how he keeps his arms by his side, almost like the affectionate gesture was too terrifying. Yet she doesn't let go, just holds him tighter. Her family may be incomplete, dysfunctional but there was always someone to hold you when you're down, to keep you together, to appreciate you. She knows it's never been like that in Mickey's family, how this was probably the first time in years anyone has been able to do this for him. So she continues, trying to make up for his lifetime of neglect.

"He's a damn special kid, you know. He just... It's been tough, it's never been easy. Look out for him. I need you to do that." Fiona knows it's too much ask, but somehow she knows he's already doing it. He's already ready to sit at the club all night.

Soon enough she feels Mickey's arms around her in return, they're unsure, but there nonetheless. "I know." 

It's whispered into her hair the first time, and the after they separate, she meets his gaze dead on. 

"I know. I will." His eyes hold a promise. 

•••

Sundays were meant to be quiet day in the Gallagher household. No one was up before the sightings of noon, at least the ones who made the noise weren't.

So when Fiona hears muffled sounds coming from downstairs before 6am, she forces her bedridden body out of the warm blankets to investigate.

There on the couch, is Ian, bundled up in a sweater too large for him, dead asleep as he cuddles into one side of Mickey's body. The brunette however, is wide awake, his eyes trailing Ian's face with a content look. 

Liam approaches them, and as much as Fiona feels she should stop him, unsure of how exactly Mickey will act, she doesn't. He holds in one of his tiny hands, a little lego figurine who's hair as been built with a red block. 

Mickey stares at Liam, before a quiet chuckle escapes him. He accepts the offering. "Yeah, buddy. This is Ian, ain't it?" He waits for the nod of conformation. "I'll give to him when he's up. You should go back to bed, kid. Don't want to be gettin' into any trouble." 

And then Mickey winks, and Liam giggles, bounding up the flight of stairs without really acknowledging Fiona. 

She stares dumbfounded, because sometimes she has a tough time coming to terms with the fact that this is the same individual who was notorious for terrorising every man, woman and child. The longer Mickey stays with them, the more Fiona begins to understand. Mickey was never toxic, it was always his environment.

•••

Fiona doesn't want to set off the alarm on her ankle monitor by any chance, so she makes it a point to arrive home earlier than is required. She settles the groceries down on the counter, when he hears the familiar rocking of a bed come from above. Her first thought is Lip. That was before she heard a shout.

_ "Ian, f-fuck. Harder." _   


Her face goes bright red, some of that flushed colour reaching down to her neck as well. Obviously the two boys had thought they would be alone for a while. 

The realisation that Mickey Milkovich takes it up the ass from her baby brother, it's too much, she giggles. She thinks back to all those times she had seen him on the street, tattooed knuckles on display. She would never have guessed. 

_ "Fuck, fuck. So fucking good." _   


Fiona tilts her head back, covering her eyes with a hand as she continues to laugh. 

Mickey comes down on his own, claiming that Ian is in the shower, and Fiona can't help but notice the stiff sort of way he walks. She's proud of Ian. 

He doesn't exactly offer to set the table, but ends up doing it anyways as she watches him with a gleeful expression. The way his face goes red sets her off again.

"Shut the fuck up." It's not as heated as it should be, and she simply answers him by placing a finger on top of her lips. 

Fiona waits for Ian come down, before beginning to dish out food, letting everyone get it while it was still warm. Again, it's just the three of them, and she sits silently, just watching them. 

They look comfortable in each others presence, laughing, Mickey fondly rolling his eyes at everyone one of Ian's animated movements of his hands. 

It took a while, but Mickey had become more open in front of the other residents of the house. He no longer looks twice before letting himself get lost in Ian. Ian doesn't look apologetic for the slight outbursts Mickey does sometimes still has, anymore. It's good, for them inside the walls of this house if nothing more.

She smiles to herself at that, because despite all that may be wrong with their lives, the couple, have acceptance here. She won't allow anyone to take that from them.

**Author's Note:**

> SO SO SO, I just... Fiona is I think, the greatest female character ever. She is a fucking inspiration, an actual heroine. This woman is so self sacrificing, so... Ah, she's just flat out amazing. I hate what they're doing with her on the show, God it makes me sick. The Fiona we know and love is not that woman :( 
> 
> So please enjoy this warm, feel-y peace and drop me some kudos and comments, yes, no, maybe!?  
> Till next time. Mwah.


End file.
